POEM - Surfaces
Which are the rocks
I must turn over
If I am to find a life
Frothy with intent?
Which packed dirt trails
Must I explore,
Wrestle to the ground
To make my way?
All my living
Seems an expansive
Stretch – some
Manifest destiny
Of a soul’s right
To always be more
Than what it has a right to –
The returned quiet
From all my questions
Is God’s voice to me.
Just below surfaces
Where no one ever looks
Is where things get lost
And where I get found
among things that await discovery
Which are the rocks
.
I must turn over
If I am to find a life
Frothy with intent?
Which packed dirt trails
Must I explore,
Wrestle to the ground
To make my way?
All my living
Seems an expansive
Stretch – some
Manifest destiny
Of a soul’s right
To always be more
Than what it has a right to –
The returned quiet
From all my questions
Is God’s voice to me.
Just below surfaces
Where no one ever looks
Is where things get lost
And where I get found
among things that await discovery
Which are the rocks
.
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